


Perchance to Dream

by Crimson1



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Dominant Stiles, Dream Sex That Turns Out To Be Real, Episode Tag, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the pool incident, Derek decides that the only way to be sure he can trust Stiles, the only way to be sure he can keep Stiles safe...is to bring him into the pack. What he doesn't expect is for Stiles to wake up before he can bite him, thinking he is having the best dream of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Derek's POV

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jubilee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubilee/gifts).



> This was my first foray into the fandom, a few months ago, and possibly still my favorite. First part is Derek's POV, set after the pool scene, with spoilers implied but not really heavy, as this is mostly porn. Enjoy!

It was that magic hour in the middle of the night when no good decisions were ever made. Derek knew that, but then he often lived more nocturnally than by the sun, so what did the hour matter to him?

He was still somewhat stiff and sluggish from being paralyzed, and his skin was dry and shriveled on his fingertips from hours in the pool. He should have been asleep, regaining his strength. But he found himself standing outside Stiles' house instead.

Stiles wasn't an idiot. Annoying, but not an idiot. So of course he would make the prudent choice and protect Derek, who was often the only thing standing between Stiles and certain doom. But, at the same time, part of Derek knew that it was more than just practicality and self-preservation. Stiles was a good kid. He might even be someone Derek could...trust. And part of him wanted to, especially after that night. But the only way to be sure he could trust Stiles, the only way to be sure he could keep Stiles safe...was to bring him into the pack.

Stiles already was part of the pack, in a sense, but he was fragile. Human. As a wolf, Derek could teach him to protect himself. There would be no doubt of trust; Derek would be Stiles' Alpha. They'd be bound, kin, brothers. And Derek could stop worrying that some other wolf or nameless creature might come and tear Stiles' throat out.

The window had been left partially open, like an invitation for Derek to slip inside. Stiles was asleep on the bed, the covers tossed aside as if he were overheated, lying in just his shorts and a T-shirt. The bedroom door was closed and the house was quiet. If Derek trained his ears, he could hear Mr. Stilinski softly snoring in his bedroom at the other end of the hall.

Silently, Derek crossed to the bed, leaning over Stiles a moment to be sure he was asleep. The even rise and fall of Stiles' chest was a good sign, and it was no wonder, since Stiles had to be exhausted after treading water for that long, while also holding Derek up.

Derek took a deep breath. Stiles had showered, leaving him mostly smelling of soap but with the undercurrent of chlorine, and subtle traces of Derek from them having been so closely met for such a long time. Derek crept closer, moved on top of the bed carefully and quiet, hovering over Stiles and taking in his scent deeply. Stiles would make a fine wolf. He was cunning, smart. He just didn't have the muscle or speed to save himself. Derek could change that. Derek would change that.

Deep down Derek knew that if it had come down to it, Stiles would have risked his own life to make sure Derek survived, and knowing that now, no longer filled with fear or the familiar sense of betrayal, but able to look back and truly understand everything Stiles had done and had been willing to do, he felt ashamed for acting so ungrateful.

He would make it up to Stiles, even if, in the morning, the younger man hated him for it.

Derek's hands were on either side of Stiles' head, his body lifted up easily, as Derek breathed in along Stiles' neck and enjoyed the scent of himself there like a claim. Stiles was already his, a bite would simply make the bond blood.

Intent on finishing this quickly, Derek readied his teeth and pulled back...only to gaze down into open brown eyes.

The fangs instantly retreated as Derek stared. If Stiles struggled or screamed, it would make this so much harder. He had to act now. He had to bite him and go if he truly meant to finish this. But he froze.

Then, suddenly, Stiles smiled. "Sweet," the boy said, looking tired and blissful as he reached up for Derek's face. "I love this dream."

Derek's eyes widened as Stiles pulled him down into a kiss, devouring and lapping at his lips hungrily, with a confidence and skill that could only exist in dreams—or the ignorance of being in one.

Derek should have pushed Stiles away and fled. He should have stopped it right away, but Stiles was so...adamant and full of control, holding Derek's face in his hands and guiding him through the kiss as though he were the elder of the two and quite experienced, though Derek knew that wasn't true. It was so unexpected, so powerful in how Stiles' heart was racing, and Derek's was racing right along with it, in synch. Stiles' tongue traced the inside of Derek's mouth without a hint of hesitation, like he owned it, every inch of Derek's mouth and lips and tongue.

He had come here because in his weakened state he hadn't wanted to be around any of the others. He hadn't wanted to be around Erica—especially not Erica. And while he thought he had wanted to create another packmate, one who would understand, as Stiles did, what loss and sacrifice really meant, he was quickly starting to wonder if he had been seeking something else instead.

"Derek…" Stiles whined against the side of Derek's mouth.

There was questioning and want in the utterance, so Derek pulled back enough to look down. Stiles gazed hazily up at him, shifting his hips vainly toward Derek's, which were too far away for any friction.

"Come on, man, I'm dying here." Stiles sounded even more like a petulant child than usual, demanding to get his way, but for some inexplicable reason, Derek found himself complying, lowering the weight of his body onto the boy beneath him.

Stiles sighed in appreciation, grinding upwards with the same assuredness as he had kissed. His thin hips and already firm erection made Derek's arms tremble, feeling Stiles so distinctly through the thin cotton of his shorts. The movement wasn't even hurried, like Derek would have expected, but slow and purposeful, with a sense of just how much pressure would keep them going longer.

Derek hissed and felt his eyes flash red as his zipper grazed his own growing erection from the force of Stiles' steady thrusts. He felt a growl building in his throat and let it rumble. He suddenly very much wanted to bite...something. Anything.

"You are so fucking sexy. Why can't you want me like this when I'm awake?"

Derek blinked down at Stiles, at how his cheeks were flush and his eyes looked almost black in the dark. "You never asked."

Stiles grinned. "Coz you'd rip my throat out, and I quote...'with your teeth'...if I so much as batted my eyelashes at you, Big Man."

True, Derek had said something about teeth once. But he just shrugged in reply. "Well..." he said, breathing hotly on Stiles' lips as he leaned down again, "maybe I'd surprise you."

Stiles gaped at him, and Derek wondered if the kid was finally starting to realize he wasn't dreaming. Then Stiles grinned again, safe in his delusions that this couldn't possibly be real. "You'll probably choose a mate from the pack, like Erica," he wrinkled his nose, "have a bunch of puppies, and forget I exist."

Derek stilled their constant grinding with a firm press. On principle, he wanted to be offended by the puppies comment, but instead, he said, "My mate doesn't have to be a wolf."

Stiles blinked hopefully up at him.

"But I still want you to be one. If you're part of the pack, really part of the pack, you'll be stronger, safer." Derek let his teeth out again to show his intent.

Stiles swallowed. "But…my dad…"

"You want your dad to be a wolf too?"

"No," Stiles choked out, "but…he'll be in even more danger…won't he?"

Derek growled, leaning down closer so that their noses bumped together and Stiles squeaked. "Are you going to stop running around with the pack, sticking your nose into everything, trying to solve every little mystery, holding up people twice your size in a pool for two hours—"

"Okay, I get the point!"

"Your dad wouldn't be in any more danger than he already is. He might even be in less, because he'd be pack, simply by association, and you know I protect my own." Derek leaned back then and reigned in his fangs.

Taking in Stiles' expression, the kid looked so unsure, scared, like maybe he didn't like this dream anymore and wanted to wake up. Suddenly, Derek couldn't imagine biting Stiles against his will, regardless of his earlier resolve, so he started to pull away.

"No, don't go! I keep dreaming…"

"Stiles…"

"Dreaming…about you drowning. Dying. Leaving me…like Mom."

Derek stiffened, still laid out on top of Stiles, though without the full weight of him bearing down. He looked at the boy beneath him, at the familiar grief on Stiles' face, and ached for just how well he knew exactly what Stiles meant and what he was feeling.

"Please, Derek. Please...I like this dream better."

Derek cringed at how impossible it was to refuse such a plea, especially from a boy he knew was rarely so direct, so raw and open about things that wounded him. Stiles had just as many walls as Derek did. So Derek relaxed, settling back into position across Stiles' body.

Stiles smiled wildly, so grateful, blissed out beyond reason in the safety of his 'dream', and still very hard in his shorts against Derek's thigh. He pulled on either side of Derek's face again, thumbing at the stubble, and traced his tongue along the line of Derek's lips until he opened them.

Derek should leave. He knew he should leave. Styles wasn't thinking clearly, they were both exhausted, this was wrong on so many levels, but it felt so good to have Stiles' body pressed tight against his, hips mindlessly moving, mouth so impossibly skilled and inviting, that he just wanted to give in. He didn't know he could want something this much so suddenly, but something about the night, this night, and everything they had gone through, and now just the two of them in this stuffy bedroom, alone and safe, made Stiles feel like a drug Derek needed to survive.

One of the hands bracing Derek on the bed moved unconsciously to Stiles' chest and lower down the cotton of the T-shirt until it found the edge. Derek pushed his fingers up underneath the fabric along Stiles' stomach, and he heard Stiles' breath hitch. The slow, constant friction between them was maddening, because it wasn't enough, but Derek didn't dare do more when he felt some part of him being slowly overtaken by the wolf. He felt feverish and on the edge of control, like he was some young untrained beta.

What was Stiles doing to him?

Derek growled and pressed his forehead against Stiles' neck. "I need you…to be safe…and I don't know how to protect you. That's why I came here tonight. Not for this."

"Then change me."

Derek started, jerking away and staring down at Stiles in disbelief. His eyes were still dark, pupils blown, but the visible ring of brown was rich and warm.

"Promise you'll watch out for my dad…and that I can be your mate…and you can bite me. I wouldn't say yes to anyone else, you know…just you."

"Stiles…you don't understand…"

"I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I want this to be real…" Stiles spoke with such desperation and naked need, Derek couldn't think of anything to say in reply. Stiles wasn't just offering himself to be a wolf, he was offering himself to Derek...for life.

Mirroring Derek's hand that was still pushed up underneath Stiles' T-shirt, Stiles found the edge of Derek's shirt and pressed the palms of his hands up along Derek's chest, raising the shirt as he went. When the shirt was bunched up under Derek's arms, Stiles leaned his head down to run his tongue over a nipple, and Derek arched into his mouth.

"Bite me, Derek," Stiles said, pausing to bite with his own flat, human teeth, and then lick again over the nipple that had hardened. "I want you to."

Stiles was in Derek's head now, pulling out his fantasies, because there had always been something feral and thrilling about the idea of someone asking to be bitten while caught up in the heat of passion. But that also made it dangerous. Derek couldn't clear his head; he was hazy with the feel of Stiles.

The attention to Derek's chest ceased as Stiles moved to his neck instead, then to his ear, where he licked, and sucked, and nibbled like a practiced whore, which Derek knew he wasn't. Derek was so distracted that he almost didn't notice the sound of zipper teeth separating.

"Stiles..."

"Bite me..."

"Ugnnn..." Derek moaned as his jeans were undone, relieving some of the built up pressure from Stiles' grinding. But the movement had stopped, allowing Stiles to slip his hand into the jeans, past the opening of Derek's boxers, and right to burning hot skin.

Derek's eyes flashed red again as Stiles' fingers wrapped around him.

"Stiles...close your eyes," Derek warned, because he feared he was about to go full-on Alpha for this and he was afraid Stiles would be terrified.

"No. I wanna see."

Derek moaned again, already half-changed like he was in beta form, and forced himself to push into Stiles' neck again if only to calm himself down, nuzzling and scenting him desperately. The way Stiles pulled at him, gently at first but insistent, hardened him further and made it difficult to breathe—to think.

Stiles gave Derek a parting tug and then his hand slipped out of the jeans. He gripped Derek's arms. "Do it."

A growl built in Derek's throat again, and he felt himself shift into his true form from the sheer power of being offered this—offered Stiles. He bit Stiles cleanly, firmly, at the base of the neck, careful around his jugular. Stiles clung to him tighter, but his sounds were more pleasured than pained as he gripped Derek's fury arms that slowly became just skin again as he regained full control. His shirt was a bit stretched from changing while still wearing it, but he didn't care.

Stiles looked almost drugged when Derek lifted up again, and happy, and wanton beneath him. "Come on, Mr. Big Bad Sour Wolf…claim the rest of me."

Derek was acutely aware that certain wolf traits weren't easily going away, like the sharpness of his fingernails, his red eyes, his fangs, the point to his ears, but he was trying, really trying to keep control, while at the same time...really missing the feel of Stiles' hand. "Stiles…you're barely seventeen. You've never even had sex before...have you?"

The grin Stiles tossed back at Derek was too goofy for the answer to be anything other than 'not a chance in Hell'. "Can't think of anyone I'd rather have deflower me," he said. "You're way better than my Lydia fantasies."

Derek growled at the mere mention of someone else he knew Stiles cared for—well, crushed on hopelessly.

"Derek, come on...I'm so hard, and you're so hot, and you promised I could be your mate now."

The childlike utterance stabbed a sudden sharp twinge of regret into Derek's chest for what he had just done, fearful now that Stiles really would hate him in the morning when he realized it was all real. "Stiles…you're not dreaming."

"You always say that."

"Stiles…"

"Derek…" Stiles whined mockingly back at him, slipping his small hand into Derek's jeans again and gripping him hard.

Derek bit back a howl. He was so going to Hell for this.

Reeling in the rest of the wolf was difficult, but Derek managed. He didn't want to risk injuring Stiles, even if the boy would be slowly opening up to his wolf senses and stronger constitution throughout the night. Once Derek's hands were fully human again, he gripped his stretched and bunched up shirt and pulled it off over his head to disappear in the shadows of the bedroom.

Stiles licked his lips as his eyes raked over Derek's bare chest, and the blatant appreciation made Derek preen just a bit. He shifted up, letting his knees settle on the bed on either side of Stiles' hips, and bent for another fierce kiss. He licked at Stiles lips before slipping his tongue between them, tasting the slight tang of blood that he knew Stiles had to taste too.

Moans began echoing from Stiles' throat like benediction, like worship, as Derek returned his hand to the flat of Stiles stomach beneath his T-shirt, sliding slowly lower and lower. When he was at the edge of Stiles' boxers, the heel of Derek's palm just barely pressing into the base of Stiles' cock, the boy bucked up and tore his lips away to moan loudly at the ceiling.

"Shhh...I'll know if your father wakes and starts heading this direction, but I don't think we want to get his attention right now."

Stiles nodded vaguely, his eyes glassy and adoring as Derek pulled back.

Derek looked at the bite marks emblazoned on Stiles' neck, not freely bleeding but still red and angry looking. He titled his head to lick at the small wounds, tasting that sharp tang again that meant Stiles was his.

"That really shouldn't be hot...but damn it is..." Stiles sighed. Derek felt the boy's hands fumbling between them to pull his jeans more fully open and start to tug them down Derek's hips. He let it happen as he continued to lick Stiles' neck, waiting until Stiles had managed to pull the denim down to his thighs where they were too tight to pull off easily.

"I got 'em," Derek said then, and pulled away long enough to shimmy the jeans off and kick them to the end of the bed, where they soon fell with a soft thud to the floor. Since the flap of his boxer briefs had already been parted, his erection protruded boldly from the fabric, and he watched as Stiles looked at it and licked his lips again.

"Dude, do your shorts have Batman on them?" Stiles asked with far more fondness and awe than any accusation.

"They're comfortable," Derek said with a touch of defensiveness anyway. These were his favorite underwear, he just rarely wore them if he thought someone might see them. "I can't have a favorite superhero?"

Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes and beamed. "I love you and the cowl and cape you rode in on."

Derek blinked. "That—what?" He was pretty sure that hadn't made any sort of sense. Other than the love part, which made him feel like his stomach was learning gymnastics with his liver as the padding.

Stiles just beamed brighter at him and kissed Derek like he was coming up for air and needed Derek's lips in order to breathe. It was only too easy to melt into their renewed embrace, and the second Derek's naked erection pressed against Stiles' naked thigh, he saw sparks behind his eyelids and thought his brain must have misfired a few synapses. His instincts told him to rut forward until he came, but he didn't want this over that quickly.

Pulling away and having to ignore Stiles' mewl of protest, Derek tugged at Stiles' T-shirt until the boy got the idea and lifted up so it could be tossed away. Derek wasted no time before sliding Stiles' simple navy boxers down his thin hips and tossing them to the floor as well. With Stiles bare beneath him, he couldn't help sitting up a moment to stare down at the boy and marvel.

Stiles squirmed under the close scrutiny. "What?" he finally sputtered, flushed now from more than mere arousal.

It was Derek's turn to lick his lips. He looked Stiles square in the eyes. "Why do you hide this under baggy T-shirts and flannels? All this..." he ran his hands from Stiles' shoulders down his chest and sides to his hips, "...toned muscle. I just want to..." Derek growled, unable to form the words to describe what he wanted to do to Stiles.

"Eat me all up?" Stiles offered with a lopsided grin.

"That sounds about right."

Derek was true to his words as he devoured Stiles' mouth again, stretching his body out to feel the full expanse of skin on skin, only it wasn't really a full expanse with his own shorts still in the way.

Stiles was in Derek's head again, reading his desires, because the bold boy suddenly flipped them, rolling Derek to the left until their positions were reversed and Stiles was sprawled across his body. They teetered precariously close to the edge of the bed a moment before they corrected themselves, and then Stiles was tearing Derek's shorts down his legs and off over his shoulder into the dark.

"You're so fucking hot," Stiles hummed as he sat up on Derek's thighs, tongue darting out at his lips again before he bit his bottom lip and roughly ran both hands over his short hair, like he thought he might be losing his mind from over-sensation. "You're like some preteen heartthrob fantasy guy...in my bed. Like the best dream ever, or...or Christmas, or fireworks, or...Knight Rider reruns."

Derek snorted. "You are such a dork."

Stiles grinned, all teeth and wide brown eyes that drank Derek right in—every last bit of him, even the parts Derek didn't really like. Stiles took it all in and reflected back something that Derek didn't resent nearly as much as he thought he would.

A gasp left Derek as he felt Stiles take him in hand again, the boy straddling his hips low enough that their erections touched without assistance, only Stiles very quickly assisted as a surprisingly large hand wrapped around them both and squeezed them tight together. Rubbing mutual precum across them both as he began a slow pump, Stiles rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, adding to the simple pulls with that impossible confidence and skill again.

"How..." Derek hissed, "...do you know how to do all this so damn well?"

Stiles' grin turned lopsided again. "Lots of porn."

Derek laughed and then had to bite back a howl as Stiles' increased the friction, pumping faster with his hand and his hips. Derek stared hard at Stiles, trying to convey with his eyes—since his mouth and brain were no longer accurately communicating enough for him to speak—what he wanted. He wondered then if his eyes flashed red or some Alpha message had been inadvertently sent, because Stiles almost immediately seemed to understand.

He slowed his rhythm gradually and then released his grip, sliding up past Derek's hips until he was settled on his stomach instead. He laid forward on Derek's chest, reached blindly for Derek's right hand while holding his gaze, and began to lead Derek's fingers to his lower back and over the curve of his ass.

"Care to help a wayward virgin out?" he said, gaze constant and without reservations.

Derek was amazed at how easy this all was for Stiles, like he had had this dream a thousand times and knew exactly how he wanted everything to play out. Obligingly, Derek took back control of his hand and guided his fingers between Stiles' cheeks, glad for his blunt nails as he began to push in and stretch the boy, focusing harder than ever on not letting any of the wolf out—not just now.

Only after Derek had two fingers in up past the knuckle did Stiles' eyes close, brow furrowing as a low moan escaped his lips. Mere seconds passed before Stiles' eyes flashed open again and he pushed himself up, looking down at Derek with such demanding, he didn't need to use any words.

Derek moved his hands to grip Stiles' hips, while Stiles reached back to guide Derek in, lifting up at first and then sitting back slowly, until Derek was sheathed deep inside of him and a rather unmanly noise escaped his throat.

"Ffffuck..." Stiles gasped, the crinkles around his eyes tense, but there was a satisfied smile tugging at his lips and he relaxed, all at once releasing the pressure around Derek and then tightening again—purposely.

"Fuck," Derek echoed. He squeezed Stiles' hips between his hands, desperate suddenly for release after their slow build and unsure if he could hold back as much as Stiles probably needed.

Stiles shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he said, as if he had read those thoughts from Derek's mind. "I'm good. Soooo...good." He ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip before biting it again and rocking his hips forward at the same time. He slid from Derek and pushed back down with such careful torture, such ease and seeming talent that Derek found he could do nothing but enjoy the ride and hang on tightly.

Derek rocked his own hips subtly upward, but Stiles was so deliberate in his movements, no assistance was really needed. Derek had to bask in the boy above him, who wanted him so deeply, so badly, that he held all the power in his hands...and knew it. The smile on Stiles' face and the light in his warm brown eyes showed that he knew it and took it as a gift.

Like Derek was something precious and beautiful.

A soft growl rumbled through Derek's chest, and the sound and vibrations widened Stiles' smile further. Little by little their rhythm increased, Stiles rocking back and forth with wild abandon and deep possession of Derek. And Derek gave himself over willingly, pressing his head back into the pillow as he held the boy in place and lost himself in the feeling of Stiles, all around him.

When Derek came, he expected Stiles to pull away, but the boy didn't; he hung on tight and rode through his own orgasm, pumping himself quick and rough at the end and leaving stripes across Derek's stomach.

They laid amidst their sticky mess for several minutes, just breathing deep, Stiles collapsed forward on Derek, while Derek, still mostly hard, remained inside of Stiles, happily twitching.

When Derek finally softened, he slid away, rolling out from under Stiles to retrieve the first article of discarded clothing he could find on the floor, which turned out to be Stiles' T-shirt, and used it to wipe them both clean. Stiles merely stretched out on the bed, waiting for Derek to join him again. Derek did, and pulled the boy in against his side.

"Dude..."

"So fucking hot?"

Stiles actually giggled. "Yeah it was." He turned an adoring expression on Derek and just stared for a long time. Finally, grin wide, he said, "Best. Dream. Ever." Then he nuzzled against Derek's neck, eyes closing with the pull of sleep.

Derek wanted to float happily within the afterglow, but he had to frown. A swell of fear and regret crept into his chest again, and he wondered if he had made a horrible mistake. Stiles thought all of this was a dream, and Derek had taken advantage of that, no matter how persuasive the boy might have been. Stiles could very well hate him for all of it in the light of day.

But, Derek decided, for tonight Stiles was safe, and his, and he just wanted to rest, hoping that somehow all the good parts of that night would still be good in the morning.

TBC...

Part 2 will be from Stiles' POV the next morning. :-) Coming soon!

~Crimson


	2. Stiles' POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the pool incident, Derek decides that the only way to be sure he can trust Stiles, the only way to be sure he can keep Stiles safe...is to bring him into the pack. What he doesn't expect is for Stiles to wake up before he can bite him, thinking he is having the best dream of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is part 2 of 2! Stiles POV. With a bit more porn. This was really just a silly fantasy spurred on by the whole pool scene, but I have further dabbled in this fandom since I wrote this one, so stay tuned for more, and thanks again for all the comments! Enjoy!

Stiles roused slowly from sleep with the simple and very distinct sensation of every inch of his body aching. He felt dizzy, which was particularly strange since he was lying down. He blinked heavy, dry eyes at his bedroom door to try and ground himself in reality. He couldn't even remember what day it was, but really hoped he didn't have to get up for class.

He was on his side facing away from the rest of the room, practically at the edge of the bed, and was amazed he hadn't rolled off. He took a moment to register his own body, his brain sluggishly returning to alertness, before he remembered why he was sore.

The pool.

Treading water for two hours while holding up a 200 pound mass of muscle was a full-body workout, and he was suffering for the Good Samaritan act now. He had suffered during too. And immediately after, since Derek hadn't exactly been grateful. Typical, really, Stiles thought. Derek thought of him as nothing more than a nuisance, and apparently one he didn't trust any further than he could throw. Though, actually, Stiles was confident Derek could throw him pretty far if he tried.

Despite his water escapades the previous night, Stiles wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot bath for a few hours. If he did have to go to school today, he was calling in sick.

Worse was how the pool had haunted Stiles' sleep, dream after dream of Derek slipping to the bottom, and Stiles not being fast enough to pull him back up before he was just...dead weight, floating in the water. Stiles would see the bottom of the pool, so far below him, and it was never just Derek there...but Mom too.

Stiles never told anyone, not even Scott or his dad, but every time there was a dead body, every time he saw one, he'd dream it was his mother.

Stiles groaned as he used what little strength he had after having just woken up to sit on the edge of the bed, and thought he heard his stomach grumble. He was sort of hungry, but first he really needed to pee. He dragged himself to his feet and started a zombie walk for the door. It wasn't until he was out in the hallway that he realized he was naked.

I wasn't that out of it after the pool, was I?

Stiles tried to remember what he had done after returning home. He had showered, changed, gotten into bed—definitely not naked—fell asleep, had all those awful dreams, and then...

Stiles jolted to a stop at the door leading into the bathroom. And then...

Derek.

A tired grin captured Stiles' face as he leaned into the doorframe, feeling better by the minute just from standing and moving his sore limbs, and especially after remembering his final epic dream. Epic wasn't even the right word; there needed to be something grander to encompass just how awesomely hot the dream had been. Porn wasn't that hot.

Stretching his back and then his arms up above his head, Stiles was actually feeling pretty good as he flipped on the light and closed the bathroom door behind him. Maybe he had just slept in one position for too long, because he wasn't really sore anymore, not really...sore. It was almost like growing pains. Like his body just needed to move. Stiles was suddenly filled with an energy and, really, that wasn't a surprise with all the energetic memories Derek's dream-persona had given him. If only the real Derek was that into him.

Stiles grinned the entire time as he relieved himself, and then as he fumbled for his toothbrush, caught up in the replay of his dream flashing through his mind, his eyes still heavy from sleep and a bit blurry, like they were trying to refocus their natural setting.

He couldn't believe he had actually undressed in his sleep, though the dream had been pretty vivid. Usually he only undressed in his sleep on hot summer nights, which had started getting pretty weird between him and Scott during sleepovers once they were over twelve.

Stiles arched his back once more and cracked his neck as he brought his toothbrush up and stared hard into the mirror. He froze with the bristles pressed to his front teeth. His eyes had cleared—acutely sharp, actually. And they were drawn right to the large bite marks imprinted on his neck.

The toothbrush clattered into the sink, Stiles gripping the edges of the mirror like he intended to pull it from the wall, if only to pull himself closer and really look at what he thought he was seeing. Only he wasn't imagining things. There were bite marks. On his neck. Right where Derek had bitten him...in the dream!

"Deep breaths...deep breaths..." Stiles chanted, carefully running his fingers over the groves of the indentations. It didn't actually look that bad, though it was definitely teeth marks. Scott's bite had still looked angry the next morning and hadn't cleared up until late in the afternoon. Of course Scott hadn't had his Alpha fondly lick at the wounds right afterward...

Stiles shivered at the memory. The bite was real. Which meant Derek being in his room last night was real. Which meant...he was a wolf now.

And he had totally had sex last night.

With Derek Hale.

"Yes!" Stiles whooped, fist pumping into the air completely on reflex.

"Stiles!"

And then the moment was over. "Uhh...yeah, Dad! I'm in the bathroom!" Stiles rushed for the bathroom door to make sure it was tightly closed, since he was naked, and had bite marks, and...Stiles swooned a little as he looked back at the mirror and caught sight of dried remnants of Derek on his thigh.

Gibberish raced through Stiles' mind for a moment in vain attempt at processing the thought of him and Derek and sex all being part of the same equation.

"I'm...just about to jump into the shower!" he called to his dad.

"Okay," his dad replied at less of a yell, sounding right outside the door. "Breakfast is almost ready downstairs, but I'm going to have to head in to the station in a bit. If I have to go before you're down, I'll put it on simmer, but don't forget."

"I won't. I'll try and be quick so I can see you out."

Stiles listened as his dad walked back down the hallway, then fell against the door. His knees felt weak, but in reality, he felt stronger than ever before. He felt amazing.

Screw a hot bath. Stiles was going to take a quick shower and hurry back to his room. Thinking more clearly now, he was pretty sure it hadn't been his stomach grumbling when he rolled out of bed.

Stiles rescued his toothbrush from the sink, quickly brushed his teeth, and then dove into the shower. He had showered the night before, but he wanted to rinse off and take a moment to let his heart rate slow down to normal. Only maybe the rapid pounding he was feeling was normal. He was a wolf, after all, and he had already gone through all of this newborn shit with Scott. He knew what to do, how to keep his calm and use his new abilities rationally—well, more or less, because he totally planned on doing at least a few stupid things just because he could and he was a freakin' werewolf.

Besides, if Allison was Scott's anchor then Stiles totally knew who would be his.

If he was being completely honest, he had never really wanted to be a wolf, not even for the power and speed and awesome senses and reflexes. But to be one because Derek Hale had wanted him, personally, as part of the pack, to keep him safe, and for Derek to have claimed him as a mate...

Stiles swooned again under the cool flow of water, since his skin felt so intensely hot, and pressed his forehead against the tile.

He deserved a little freak out time, and there were definitely going to be consequences to this—Scott wasn't going to be too thrilled—and he still needed to actually go back into his room and speak to Derek like a normal person instead of...god, however he had acted when he thought he was dreaming, but somehow that all melted away at the memory of Derek running his hands down Stiles body and wanting him the way he had last night.

Stiles heard his dad returning down the hall—heard him from all the way down the hall at the top of the stairs, which was definitely better than Stiles had ever been able to hear before—and tried to focus on each tiny sound. His dad's footsteps, steady intakes of breath, a sharp turn at the other end of the hall, and then—KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Stiles cringed. The heightened senses definitely had their drawbacks.

"Almost done, Dad! I'll be out in a sec!"

"Stiles, I need to talk to you now."

That was never a fun tone, but since Stiles was pretty much done anyway, he turned off the tap and stepped out. Drying a little haphazardly, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, glanced in the mirror to see that the bite marks were miraculously barely even a hickey anymore—thank you supremely hot Alpha licking powers—and opened the door to peek out at his dad in the hallway.

Stiles plastered on a smile. "What's up?"

"Why is Derek Hale naked in your bed?"

And then his heart promptly stopped. Shit. "I didn't close the door...did I?"

"No. You didn't."

"Please don't shoot him."

"Stiles…" His dad's face was suddenly very red, and only seemed to get redder as he noticed the very-much-looks-like-a-hickey on Stiles' neck.

"Shit, Dad, it's...really complicated and not what you think."

"So my underage son didn't have illegal sex last night with a man over five years his senior."

"He's not that much older, is he?"

His dad was fuming like Stiles had never seen before, like his face was going to rupture something, but his voice came out deadly steady. "Stiles, Derek is facing a felony being even more than three years older than you. Do you know the age of consent in California?"

"I'm guessing not 17?"

"Stiles!"

"He's not a sexual deviant, Dad!" Stiles jumped to the defensive, throwing the door open wider and trying to stand eye to eye with his father. "And...okay, so I know you also arrested him for murder, but he was cleared of that, and he's, like, saved my life a bunch of times now, and I've saved his, and that was really awesome last night, and you can't ruin it by throwing him in jail! I kinda…think I'm in love with him." Actually, Stiles knew he was in love with Derek, he was psyched at the thought of actually being Derek's mate, and wolves mate for LIFE, but he figured that might be the last nail in Derek's coffin if he mentioned anything.

His dad took a breath, seeming to try and calm himself down and be reasonable as some semblance of a normal human skin tone returned to his face. "Stiles, if it had been someone else, boy or girl, who was your own age, or only a couple years older, I might have overlooked it. You'd still be grounded for sneaking someone into your room and having sex under my roof without me even meeting this person, but I could have dealt with it. But Derek Hale? He's a grown man, with a record, and—"

"And a good heart! And good intentions...usually. I coerced him last night, Dad, I wasn't seduced or taken advantage of. He tried to leave and be all white knight, and I wouldn't let him." Stiles was leaving out the part about Derek having snuck into his room to turn him into a werewolf with or without his permission, and Stiles did have a right to be upset about that on principle, but he was trying to defend Derek right now.

"Did you at least use protection?"

"Of course!" Only they so totally hadn't, but Derek was a werewolf and pretty much immune to normal human diseases, and it wasn't like Stiles could get pregnant, so he was pretty sure Derek being a wolf was all the protection he needed.

At least his dad looked convinced. "Wake him up, get your butts downstairs, and we'll discuss this together."

Stiles breathed at least some small sigh of relief since his dad didn't sound quite as homicidal anymore. "Okay. But can whatever solution we come to not involve me having to wait a year before I can see Derek again, because that would really suck."

His dad glared. "No promises. Get dressed." And then he disappeared back down the hallway.

Stiles felt all his good feelings draining away, though the thought that Derek was still naked in his bed was a plus. He held the doorframe for a moment. "I am so fucked."

"I thought that was the part you liked."

Derek's voice came from seemingly nowhere, especially since he wasn't in the hallway, and sounded way closer than where Stiles' room was. "Derek? Am I hearing you with wolf senses?" Stiles whispered.

"What do you think?"

Stiles dashed immediately for his room and shut the door behind him in a flurry of motion, leaving him facing the door with the room at his back. He turned around slowly, like he thought any sudden movements would cause Derek to implode or disappear or never to have been there at all.

Only Derek was there, stretched out on the bed with the sheets barely covering him, revealing perfect lines down his hips and just the barest visible hint of dark hair that was nowhere near the top of his head. His actual hair was slightly askew, and he looked all rumpled from sleep. His brow was knit, but there was the smallest traces of a smile on his face.

Stiles melted. "I wasn't dreaming."

Derek's smile faltered. "No."

"So you really have Batman underwear?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "That's the part you're focusing on?"

Stiles just grinned, because Derek was being his normal sour wolf self, Derek was Derek, and he was in Stiles' bed. "This is so awesome," he said, probably a little deliriously. And then definitely a little deliriously with how he leapt for the bed and crawled right on top of Derek with the edge of his towel threatening to pull open, and only that towel and the thin sheets separating the fact that they were both naked. "I don't even care that Dad's gonna kill us. You're really here. That really happened last night."

Derek nodded, but his expression was unsure, brow even more tightly knit now, more tightly knit than usual, and it was always somewhat knit. But he didn't push Stiles away, he took hold of Stiles' hips and let him settle in on his lap. "So, you aren't…angry with me?"

"For taking my virginity? I would have wrapped it up in a bow if I could."

"Stiles…" Derek frowned, and it wasn't his usual angry or brooding frown, it was real sorrow and regret. "I turned you against your will. Slept with you in your father's house. Took advantage—"

"Dude, I'm pretty sure the words 'bite me' left my lips more than once, and even if 'fuck me' didn't, it was implied." Stiles pressed his palms to Derek's bare chest. Derek was so warm. He was so warm. "So...you made my dream come true. How is that bad? I live in my head most the time anyway. It's okay. If that's what it took for you to be mine...it's more than okay. I mean...you are mine, right? My...mate?" he added with a crooked, whimsical grin, because that word said out loud always sounded a little funny...and permanent. "I let you bite me. We sorta had a deal."

"I never agreed to any deal. You said all that. I just bit you."

Stiles freaked for maybe half a second before Derek chuckled. "Asshole," Stiles sighed in relief. "Lucky for you, I still totally love you." He gripped both sides of Derek's face, thumbs hooked around his jaw, and kissed him, just a simple, firm press of lips.

Relief was splashed across Derek's face when Stiles pulled away, and all the lines suddenly smoothed over, even the ones usually on his brow, and he looked so young and vulnerable and raw, like he'd just now taken a breath and let himself really relax and drop his guard for the first time in years.

"Oh fuck...seriously...you should always have this expression," Stiles said, holding Derek's head possessively in his hands. "Why don't you always have this expression...?"

Derek's eyes watered and that perfect expression was marred by sadness, sadness Stiles recognized because he had known it only too personally too. Derek pressed their foreheads together. "You're mine. You're mine. But I just keep...losing everyone, and I can't...I can't go through it again."

"I know. Me either."

"And I was afraid you'd...see this all differently in the morning and hate me for it."

"What? Are you kidding?" Stiles sat up, still thumbing Derek's stubble like he had the night before, and loving the feel of Derek's face in his hands. "I mean, okay, I'll admit, the wolf part is a little…well, it's gonna be weird. You have to be nice to me at first, because I haven't had any of the training the others have had yet. And you have to tell everyone I'm your mate, so Erica keeps her paws off. And anyone else. And Scott's gonna be a real pain in the ass about this because he doesn't know I..." He let his hands drop to Derek's shoulders.

"Doesn't know you...have intense sex dreams about me?" Derek smirked, banishing the sadness with a single sexy expression.

"Yeah, well...first we sorta have to figure out how to keep my dad from neutering you."

Derek frowned again and his usual sour expression was back, only in Stiles' defense rather than because of him, which was a nice change. "Somehow I doubt saying I thought the age of consent was 17 like it is in New York won't pacify him."

"Why does stupid California have to be 18?" Stiles groaned.

"I think he'd still care that I'm so much older."

"Not SO much. In five years, no one would even notice."

"But it's not five years, it's now." Derek squeezed Stiles' hips and then ran his hands up his waist and down again, making Stiles shiver. "And you are seventeen. Barely. He might not arrest me, but he's not going to want this to continue."

Stiles felt a sudden panic creep in. "Don't you dare side with him and say I have to wait a whole year to have sex with you again. I'll die!"

"I didn't say that." Derek smiled, sweeter than Stiles was used to quite yet, though the sweetness was replaced with something decidedly more wicked when Derek suddenly tugged Stiles' towel to the floor and then rolled his hips. "I really like you in this position...but if your dad lets me off with a warning today, we're going to have to be careful."

Stiles pressed down into Derek through the thin sheet and they started slowly rocking, Derek holding Stiles tightly and pulling his hips down as he pushed firmly upward with his own. "Or we...could just tell him all the wolfy bits," Stiles suggested.

Derek stopped.

"Yeah, I don't think that'd be a good idea, either. So…back to sneaking around, only this time with even more threat of you being arrested than usual? Awesome."

Derek renewed their rocking, and it wasn't long before they were both hard and leaking precum in little patches onto the sheets.

"Ugnn...Derek? Dad's…expecting us down for breakfast…and more yelling."

"I can be quick."

There had to be something truly magical about wolf reflexes that made it possible for Derek to suddenly be the one on top, the intrusive sheets torn from the bed. Stiles gaped as Derek settled low in between his legs, low enough that Derek's face was...

Oh. Stiles was pretty sure his heart stopped again.

"You weren't this bashful last night," Derek grinned, holding Stiles' legs apart with an arm around each thigh, his face teasingly close to Stiles' not so bashful erection.

"Well I...I mean, you...and then...that was, you know...dream."

Derek gave a low chuckle that vibrated through Stiles' hips. His hazel eyes that sometimes looked green and sometimes looked blue and always looked amazing locked onto Stiles as he bent forward and licked a stripe up the underside of Stiles' cock. "Reality," he said.

Stiles was pretty sure the only word his brain could form right then was 'guh'. He watched, mesmerized, as Derek parted his lips and took Stiles' tip into his mouth, rolling his tongue and sucking eagerly. Then Derek took him in deeper, and deeper, eyes never once leaving Stiles' face. When he gave his first bob, forward and back, then forward and back again, and again, Stiles was pretty sure his chances at college were shot because his brain was mush.

Derek Hale was giving him a blow-job—he could die happy.

Stiles had to nearly bite his tongue to keep from moaning so loud that his dad would likely come banging on the door. The way Derek moved and sucked him in with such fervor, the way his tongue curled and swiped and tasted, had Stiles subtly thrusting in time with the rhythm that had been set.

Part of him wanted to just lie back and enjoy, let Derek finish and have his way with him, but as good as it felt, as close as Stiles was to totally losing his shit, he focused on the night before and how he had been the confident one, more so than Derek, and that's what Derek had succumbed to. That sexy confident Stiles was still in him, just usually within the safety of a good night sleep.

There was a time—pretty damn recently—when Stiles would have feared for his life even touching Derek's shoulder without permission. Now was different. Now Stiles had a claim on him—Derek was his and he was Derek's.

"Come here..." Stiles reached behind Derek's ears and pulled, dragging Derek away from his fervent work. He pulled until Derek started climbing up his body, and then he pulled Derek's mouth right to his and kissed him with all the possession he felt.

Only when lack of contact between his legs started to drive him crazy did Stiles pull away, and then only to lick his hand and reach between them to grip Derek firmly. He grinned at the surprised eyes above him.

"Snap to it, Hale. How 'bout a little teamwork."

Derek gaped for maybe a moment before a sinful grin caught his lips too. Stiles was already wet from Derek's mouth and tongue, so Derek's hand slid over his skin smoothly, and once they had mutual holds of each other, it was only too easy to move.

Stiles glanced between them, at Derek's hand on his cock and his hand on Derek's—moving, pulling, pumping.

A growl, not quite as low as Derek's, filled the air around them.

Stiles blinked. "Was that me?"

Derek answered with a growl of his own, and Stiles wondered if the next time they did this he would have to worry about keeping his inner wolf in check. Which would be weird, and kind of scary, and pretty freaking awesome.

Right now Stiles was still new enough as a wolf that he felt completely in control—growl notwithstanding—but when he looked up again into Derek's eyes, they were flickering red.

Stiles licked his lips and quickened his pace on Derek's cock. Leaning his head up, he captured Derek's gaze. "Hey, Big Man...bet you'd rather be in me, wouldn't you?"

Derek's eyes flashed full-on red and stayed that way for several seconds before dimming, his expression pure animalistic lust.

"Too bad," Stiles grinned, even though Derek's pace had picked up too, and he was right on the edge and feeling fucking fantastic. "Gonna have to wait 'til next time. Though I'm...pretty sure it's my turn next time."

Apparently, Stiles just kept throwing Derek for a loop, because he always looked stunned right before he grinned again. "I'm your Alpha," he said, like that settled who would be on top.

"So? I'm your mate. And I believe in equal opportunity relationships." Stiles smiled wide, eating up the returned grin from Derek, which he took as a promise, and wanting nothing more than to stare deeply into Derek's eyes the whole time while they came.

Derek broke first, which was crazy satisfying when Stiles had been the one getting the blow-job a couple minutes ago. Of course the feeling of Derek spurting over his hand and stomach had Stiles quickly following suit.

Stiles felt an extra swell of love for Derek when he reached down to retrieve the towel and made good use of it. Stiles really didn't want to take another shower.

"Dude...that was...that was—"

"Better than Knight Rider reruns?"

The twinkle in Derek's eyes reminded Stiles that he had in fact used that reference last night. "Okay. Well...yeah. But I was going to say...anything and everything I've ever experienced my whole life times a thousand. A life I'd really like to keep, though, so we should probably haul ass downstairs. We can just...tell Dad we were talking things out."

Derek snorted. "Right."

Rolling onto his side to face Derek, while Derek was propped up on his side too, Stiles grabbed Derek's face like he had several times before. "I'm yours. You're mine. And I'm proud to be part of your pack, even if Scott throws a hissy fit. I'm your mate and that's just how it's gonna be." He released Derek. "See? We totally talked things out."

Sheer amusement crossed Derek's face. "You talked things out. Though I get the impression that's how most arguments with you would go..."

"Pfft. You've shut me down plenty of times."

"You weren't my mate then."

Stiles considered that, really considered that all of this was real and happening right now.

Last night Derek almost died, could have so easily died if Stiles hadn't stepped in—well, dove in. That old familiar fear of losing someone important had taken over, and Stiles had simply refused to let it happen. He hadn't expected anything in return. He never expected Derek to save him, even though Derek had saved him several times over. Saving Derek for a change was just something Stiles had to do.

And now he had Derek. And the responsibility was bigger. The potential cost of what he could lose was...bigger. Which was really pretty scary. But definitely worth it.

"Derek?"

"Mmm?"

"I really do love you."

For a moment, that smooth, youthful, carefree expression filled Derek's face again. He grabbed Stiles' chin. Kissed him. "You better. Because I can't lose you now. Not ever. I'll shatter. I'll just break apart."

Stiles didn't really know what to say to that, so he just nodded. He was pretty sure he'd break apart too. But it was worth it, worth any cost, for last night and all their promises to be more than just a dream.

Later, after Stiles' Dad did not kill them and agreed that they could see each other, but no sneaking around and no sex 'under his roof', which Stiles took as almost permission to still have sex elsewhere, they gathered the entirety of the wolves and humans and...otherwise that were part of all this with them, and Derek explained the PG-13 version of their night.

With a growl, he said that if anyone had a problem with Stiles being his mate, they'd have to deal with him. The person who looked most ready to protest was Scott, but he shut up when Stiles looked at him pleadingly.

The few glares Stiles got from some of the others were totally worth it.

\-----

THE END

~Crimson


End file.
